Rebirth
by Jericho Pryce
Summary: Two years after her own death, Shepard finds the world a much darker place. In the wake of her rebirth, she must learn to overcome the demons of her past, all the while an old friend slips further towards darkness... Chapter 1: Mixed Blessings pt. II
1. Prologue: All Those Fading Stars

_AN: 'Rebirth' is a retelling of the Mass Effect 2 story-line, focusing on the relationship between Commander Shepard and the turian Garrus Vakarian. While I have altered much of the dialogue and many of the game's events quite significantly to better suit my story, there will be spoilers for Mass Effect 2 throughout. You have been warned. __Also, a special thanks to author 'allsafeandsound' for her help in beta-reading this project. _

_For Christine._

**Rebirth**

By Jericho Pryce

_"Death ends a life, not a relationship" – Robert Benchley_

Prologue:  
All Those Fading Stars (Part I)

The elevator doors slid open to reveal the engineering deck of the SSV Normandy empty save for one. He stood fastidiously tinkering at the maintenance controls of the hulking land-rover that they called the Mako, striving, as always, to get that clumsy beast to work. She smiled as she walked over to him.

It was curiously quiet on the engineering deck. Everyone was gone. Private Kaiden Alenko was up in the mess, catching up on his dinner before they embarked on yet another patrol, this time on the nearby planet of Alchera; the treks sometimes lasted a couple of days, and the tubes of instant-food the team was provided did little to satisfy anybody's appetite.

He was undoubtedly still complaining about how the Council had been screwing them over as of late, sending the Normandy and her crew on countless (not to mention pointless) recon expeditions in search of the geth. "Everybody knows the geth haven't been seen in Citadel Space months!" Kaiden was fond of saying, and he was right. Everyone's morale had been a low lately, and no one could blame them; they risked their lives in stopping the most dangerous thing that the earth's Military Alliance, hell, that the galaxy itself had ever seen, and they get scrubbed to the backwater regions of space, searching for an enemy that everybody knows is not there. The real threat was still on the horizon, and the Alliance was willing to shut them all up and just pretend like it wasn't there. So she let Kaiden complain, let the others blow off steam; it wasn't as if they didn't deserve it after everything they'd been through.

Besides, they'd get to the real fight soon enough. Just as good that they for once enjoy the calm before the storm, she thought.

The engine room itself was also devoid of any of its usual chatter, the only sound filling the air being the low and steady hum of the ship's drive core. The quarian Tali was also nowhere to be found (Probably up flirting with Kaiden, she thought). She looked and saw the weapons lockers and the work bench and was reminded of Wrex. The krogan was long gone from the Normandy, off to his home planet of Tunchanka to try and reunite the estranged tribes of his people. She pictured a united front of millions of those violent, hulking reptiles and smiled again as she realized that Wrex was the only bastard in the galaxy who could possibly pull that off.

Wrex was gone, Tali and Ashley were away but he was still there, still tinkering with that infernal buggy, a constant in what seemed like a life of never-ending change.

"Is it just me, or do you never leave this spot?" she asked him wryly as she approached the Mako. He jumped a bit, seemingly startled by her approach. That was just like him, to be so absorbed in his work the whole world seemed to disappear. She liked that.

"Oh, uh, commander, I was just fixing the Mako…" He trailed off. Turian faces were hard to read, their avian features as decipherable as a bird's sometimes. But he was more emotive, and she knew him better than most anyone else on the Normandy did. She could tell when he was troubled. He composed himself as best he could. "Hello, Commander Shepard."

"Hello, Garrus", she replied. "How are you?" The turian seemed uncomfortable, distracted. His alien blue eyes shifted about almost imperceptibly.

"I'm fine," Garrus said. There was silence; it made her uncomfortable. Why had she come down here? It had been meal time up on deck, all of the other crew had been laughing and talking and, in some cases, complaining. Shepard wasn't a fan of noise, less still of inane conversation. She'd escaped to the engineering deck to find some peace and quiet, though she knew she'd find Garrus too. Shepard broke the silence.

"Fixing the Mako? I thought everything was been repaired after Alterius?"

"Well, you know, the counter-balance calibrations are still a bit off from that crash landing on Ilos, and I still can't figure out what's wrong with the thrusters, but…" He trailed off again. "What was it that you needed Commander?" Shepard leaned against the buggy's gigantic rear-wheel.

"I was getting a tired of all the chatter up on deck. Thought I'd get a little peace and quiet. You know me, Garrus."

He did. She wasn't known to be exactly the most personable commander in the galaxy, and she knew it; her crew often referred to her, affectionately, as "The Hard-Ass." She didn't blame them. She acted with authority and she rarely smiled; even those members of the Normandy's crew closest to her, Kaiden and Tali and Liara and the rest of those who had occasionally seen the barrier between commander and friend dissolve, rarely caught that fleeting impression that she might be enjoying herself.

He respected this though, she knew that too. He'd once told her that she reminded him of the Turian officers back on Palaven, or the Citadel. They weren't bastards, but they didn't take any crap. Hard-asses.

"Peace and quiet?" he asked. "You couldn't have just gone up to your quarters?" he asked.

"I thought I might check up on you, see how you were holding up."

"You sound like we're off hunting Saren all over again, Commander. It's not as if we've had any life-or-death close encounters lately. What's to check up on?"

"Well, for starters," she said, "We've hardly seen you up on deck since that last planet we scouted, Alterius. Have you been hiding down here for a reason?" He walked over to the maintenance panel for the Mako, only a few feet from her. The digital omni-tool flickered to life on his wrist, its orange holographic panel flashing and twisting as it manipulated the Mako's electronics.

"Hiding?" he said. His face grew ever so slightly tense again as he worked. "I haven't been 'hiding', Commander. I've just been tinkering away on this damned rover. Ever since it broke down back on Alterius, I've been worried that our next run in it will be our last…" The omni-tool emitted a high-pitched beep and a small panel began flashing bright red.

"Damned thrusters!" he muttered agitatedly. He lost his focus, his eyes falling in to that agitated despair. She brushed his hand aside, her hand passing through the omni-tool and shutting it off in the process. She gazed at him sternly, and he refocused as he caught sight of her eyes.

"All right," he acquiesced, closing the Mako's panel. His face held a mix of agitation and thoughtfulness that was decidedly unique to his species. He seemed almost embarrassed. "I've been thinking. About the past few months, and everything that's happened since Sovereign, the Citadel. I'm…worried."

"Worried about what?" she asked. He seemed reluctant to answer, or unsure of how to do so. He had begun to get fidgety again, shifting from heel to heel. The lower mandibles of his mouth clicked unconsciously.

"About what?" she repeated.

"About everything!" His words were restrained, but telling. He began to pace fully now, a sign of his uneasiness that she recognized.

"I'm worried about this crew," he said, "About Joker and Tali and Liara and Alenko and…you." His pause before mentioning her was almost imperceptible, but she still caught it. He took a moment to breathe and sat on the bench adjacent to her.

"It's this damned Alliance," he continued, calmer still, "and it's that damned Council too. We pull their asses out of the fire, we risk our lives killing that monstrosity Sovereign, and how do they repay us? Tossing us out in to the emptiest part of the galaxy, without as much as a hint of recognition. Sending us on wild-goose chases so they can stand up before the rest of the galaxy with smiles on their faces and act like everything is okay!" He stood and walked over to the port-hole by the Mako, and she followed suit, the both of them looking out towards the infinite of space.

Outside everything was silent and unmoving. The pinpricks of starlight were fireflies in the darkness of space. Closer, the icy surface of the planet Alchera bathed the Normandy in the place blue glow if it's reflection. She looked over to him and saw that his gaze had softened, if only a little. She noticed, not for the first time, of the warmth that could be seen there sometimes, so often hidden behind the cool determination of his icy blue eyes.

"It's all wrong, Commander," he said, his voice calm now, contemplative. "When we were taking down Saren everything was clear cut. We had a plan, a goal. We were unified, Shepard, a real team."

"And we aren't anymore?" Shepard asked. Garrus turned towards her.

"Don't tell me you don't feel it too. We're flying blind out here, Shepard, and everybody on the Normandy knows it. Morale is low. Hell, Wrex already left. It's only a matter of time before the others follow suit. And when that happens…"

Of course she felt it too. Every day that the Normandy remained delegated to its pointless backwater patrol routes, the farther apart the crew drifted. Kaiden was becoming more and more frustrated with the Alliance brass, Tali more anxious to return home to the quarian flotilla from her Pilgrimage. Liara T'soni, the ships resident scientist, was becoming increasingly enveloped in her research of the extinct race of Protheans, almost obsessively so; these days she only exited her lab when she was called upon for a mission, or to eat. Garrus was right; without a unifying mission like theirs against Saren, everybody was becoming distracted, unfocused. They were drifting apart.

Those on of the Normandy were among the only ones in the galaxy who knew of the cataclysmic storm that was soon to arrive: the Reapers, an ancient race of machines hell-bent on the destruction of every living thing in the galaxy. Saren was a turian agent, an elite Spectre handpicked by the galaxy's citadel Council, just as Shepard had been, and he had awaken Sovereign, a Reaper. Sovereign had brainwashed Saren and attempted to lead him, along with an army of zealous AI's that served the Reapers, the geth, on a genocidal campaign across the galaxy. Eventually, Sovereign and the geth had made their way to the Citadel, a cultural hub that was home to the leaders of the galactic community, the Council. The Citadel military, as well as earth's Alliance, had gone through hell to defeat Sovereign, and there had been innumerable casualties on both sides, the Normandy's own Private Ashley Williams among them.

And after all of that hell, the Council seemed content to ignore the existence of the Reapers and tell the rest of the galaxy that the geth were the one's responsible for the attack. So rather than prepare for a counterattack against the Reapers, the Council and the Alliance both had begun to assign Commander Sheppard and her crew to geth patrols in the most inactive regions of space. The council had told her it was to ensure the end of the geth threat to the galactic community, but everyone knew they merely wanted to shut her up about the truth of Sovereign's attack.

But the Reapers were still coming. Shepard knew this, as did the entire Normandy crew. Not just one to attack the citadel, but an army of thousands to wipe out the entire galactic civilization, just as what had happened to the once powerful Protheans over fifty-thousand years ago. They might arrive in a month or in a decade, but they were coming all the same. And what worried Garrus was what worried Sheppard as well: If the crew of the Normandy could fall apart so easily, what hope did they have in helping defend the galaxy against the Reapers.

They were the only ones that knew the possibility of apocalypse on the horizon, and the only ones that could possibly help prevent it. If this was their state when the Reapers attacked, there was no hope left.

"I will not let that happen," Shepard said, as much to herself as to Garrus. "Our crew is strong." She looked in to Garrus' eyes and saw how deeply disturbed he had become. There was a tension that had infected his normally collected exterior, even a hint of fear. She was not used to seeing him like this, and she didn't like it. He turned back to the porthole and gazed again into space.

"How do you do it, Commander?" he said after some moments of silence. "How can be so calm while the Council stands ready to lead the entire galaxy into extinction?"

"It helps to have a strong crew," she said. "Joker, Tali, Liara, Kaiden, you." The pause before she mentioned him was almost imperceptible. "We might be a little lost now, but I trust in every single one of you to be able to pull together when we're called upon to do so. The galaxy needs us, Garrus, there are trillions of lives at stake. We can't fall prey to fear and uncertainty. Not now. The Council might be blind to the Reapers' threat, but that doesn't mean we just give up."

She turned to him and smiled, at once displaying both her conviction and unfailing ability to inspire loyalty and confidence. It was a smile hardened by years of battle and the lingering memories of the people she'd lost or left behind.

"If we have to, we'll take on that entire damned fleet on our own." Garrus seemed for a moment to be taken aback. He studied her thoughtfully, then he smiled himself. The unease that had so possessed him only moments earlier seemed to melt away.

"You know, Commander," he said, "I think that without you all of us would be lost. Myself, most of all." She felt a heat rise up into her cheeks and looked away from his eyes. She was used to hearing that kind of inspirational crap in the speeches she'd received from the citadel or all of the promotional Alliance vids that had debuted following the Normandy's assault on Sovereign, but not from her own crew. It was not the informality of it that bothered her, but the genuineness of Garrus' words. She did not like to think of herself as hero or a saint. Garrus continued.

"I don't think I was ever able to properly thank you, Shepard."

She looked back to him again. "Thank me for what?"

"For helping me with that bastard Dr. Saleon. Back when I worked on Citadel Security, I almost went crazy trying to find him after he escaped with those hostages. But nobody would listen when I found that ship of his, except for you."

Sheppard remembered the incident well. A run-down old ship filled with the corpses of a dozen failed organ transplant experiments. She could almost still smell the putrid stench of it all. She was glad they'd found him, and killed him, before he'd gotten the means to play his sick game of doctor with anyone else.

He held her hand in his for a few moments more. Sheppard was surprised to find that she didn't mind at all. Garrus extended his hand, and she took it. The three talons were surprisingly warm, even through the synthetic material of Garrus' armor.

"So, um, thank you, Shepard," Garrus said.

"You know Garrus, I do have a first name," she said. Garrus seemed to be embarrassed when she said this; she didn't know if turians could blush per se, what with their thick, almost metallic exoskeleton, but she guessed that if they could, Garrus was right now.

"Um, I'm sorry, Commander, I just didn't want to appear, you know, too informal…" She'd always thought it funny how Garrus could be; one minute he was cool and calculating on the battlefield, the next minute he was self-conscious and unsure of himself around other people. He reminded him of her, though she would have never dared admit it. She had never been close enough to anyone to let that side of herself show.

Shepard smiled again, uncharacteristically warm and friendly. She was dropping the barrier, letting him see her as a much as a friend as a commander. She extended her hand. He took it. His three fingers clasped hers and she was surprised to see that he was warm, even underneath the synthetic material of his armor.

"All right then," he said at last, "Thank you, Christine." He held her hand for a few moments more. She didn't mind.

Over the intercom the voice of the Normandy's pilot, Jeff "Joker" Moreau, buzzed through statically:

"Commander, if you're near the porthole you need to see this!" Both Garrus' and Shepard's eyes widened and they turned to view the porthole. Outside, as if from out of nowhere, a massive ship had come into view.

It was unlike anything they had ever seen, a behemoth easily twenty times the size of the Normandy. It was constructed with a mix of what seemed to be metal and organic components; it was giant, hulking, and deadly.

Sheppard dropped Garrus' hand, and her face regained its hardened and brazen composure.

"Joker!" she called up, "What the hell is that thing and how the hell did it creep up on us without me knowing?"

"I don't know! It doesn't match any known signatures, and it completely overlooked our stealth systems!" Shepard and Garrus observed the alien vessel. From amidst it's jutting components a light emerged and began to pulse rhythmically. An attack laser.

"Shepard!," Garrus cried, "Run!" He grabbed her arm and they both sprinted back towards the elevator.

"Brace for impact!" cried joker's voice from the intercom. Just as he did, Garrus hit the activation button on the elevator, and the doors slid open.

A thundering blast erupted through the hull of the ship; the whole deck was momentarily filled with blazing heat and a blinding golden light. Garrus was knocked to the ground and Sheppard slammed heavily against the wall of the elevator. She looked up and saw flames and the faint purple glow of a kinetic-barrier where the other half of the Normandy should have been. She also saw that that kinetic barrier that was keeping all of the oxygen in the ship, as well as Garrus and Shepard themselves, was beginning to fade.

"Oh crap," Garrus said. The barrier faded out.

The flames immediately died and Shepard became faintly aware of a whooshing sound, which was the air from the deck being sucked out into the vacuum of space. Garrus was lifted by the force of the air began to fly towards the void.

"Sheppard!" he cried out and extended his hand, which she grasped on to tightly with one hand; with the other she grabbed hold firmly to the door of the elevator. The force of the air lifted and pulled at her and Garrus both and then flew outwards. Sheppard's grip remained strong and she caught hold; she exhaled sharply, both to save her lungs from implosion as well as to brace from the pain of her shoulder dislocating. There was a thundering in her ears as all of the air left her world.

Then silence. She and Garrus floated their wordlessly; Garrus motioned towards the elevator. She nodded and floated them both into the elevator, promptly hitting the UP button once they were both in; the elevator doors shut as she and Garrus both held their breath. Sound returned to them in the hissing of oxygen being pumped in to the cramped elevator. She and Garrus both gasped for air.

Shepard had counted exactly thirty-seven seconds since they had first seen the ship.

"Shepard!" Garrus said, lying on the ground as Sheppard stood slowly. "Shepard, are you okay?"

The ship suddenly rocked violently, and she knew they'd been hit again. She quickly opened entered a code on panel on the side of the elevator marked EMERGENCY. The panels on the right side of the elevator slid open to reveal a large rack containing armor and helmets for Tali, Alenko, Liara, Garrus, and herself. She then turned and offered a hand to Garrus, who took it and stood slowly.

"Shepard," he said again, "Are you okay?" She was hurriedly fastening her N7 armor to herself; her face was calm, collected, and commanding.

"I'm fine Garrus," she said, and paused her own dressing to grab Garrus' spare helmet from the rack. "Now put this on; we don't know what the hell is up there." Faintly, through the walls of the elevator and the Normandy itself, she could hear the echo of explosions, and screams. Garrus fastened the helmet to his armor. Hit hissed almost inaudibly as it became airtight. Sheppard herself had finished applying her armor and was also fastening her helmet. Garrus' voice through the com-link in Shepard's helmet sounded mechanized and distant.

"Shepard," he said, "What was that?"

"I don't know Garrus," she replied, "but if we don't get everyone off this ship soon it won't matter, because we'll all be dead." Garrus nodded.

The two of them prepared in silence as they ascended, the elevator making its achingly slow journey up to the Normandy's main deck.

_

* * *

_

_Here it is folks, Part I of the prologue to **Rebirth!** Sorry to end with a sort-of cliffhanger like that, but it was already so long...part II will be up very soon! I've been working on this story for awhile now, and I'm incredibly excited about it. I'm hoping to create an epic romance/adventure, and here are the first few steps. Do you think I'm on the right path? Well, review! Really, any amount of compliment or criticisms are welcome, just tell me what you think! For those of you who have played the Mass Effect games, I'm changing up quite a bit to keep it fresh and exciting, so be prepared for some surprises. once again, a big shout out to allsafeandsound for the beta-reading!_

_See you soon folks!_

_J._


	2. Prologue: All Those Fading Stars II

_AN:__ 20 alerts and 5 favorites in just a couple of days! I just wanted to say I'm glad you are all enjoying the story so much, because I'm enjoying writing it!_

_And please, for all of you who read and enjoy (or even dislike) __Rebirth,__ please, review! Your criticisms and comments help the story get better and better with each chapter. _

_Thanks to 'allsafeandsound' for the wonderful beta-reading, as well as my great friends Michael, Kevin, Alex, Ian, and Daniel for their support._

_And as always, this is for Christine as well._

**Rebirth**

By Jericho Pryce

Prologue:  
All Those Fading Stars (Part II)

The elevator doors slowly slid open to reveal the upper deck of the _Normandy_ in flames, the crew panicked and clamoring towards the escape pods on the ships starboard side. The sound of their jettisoning was faint in the chaos. Commander Shepard and Garrus both exited, their armor shielding them from the heat; as they stepped out the _Normandy_ rattled violently as the mysterious ship struck them again with its particle beams. She could hear the distant sound of parts of the ship being rent from their body, the groaning of the metal merely more screams amidst the cacophony. The mess hall was in ruins; two of the crewmen were helping one of their fallen comrades, who had been crushed beneath the overturned table in the center of the room.

"Garrus!" Shepard shouted, straining to be heard amidst the noise, "Help those three get to an escape pod, along with any others of the crew that are left!" Garrus nodded and ran to assist them. Meanwhile, Shepard herself began searching around for any stray crewmembers that had been unable to escape. She held her right arm limply; saving Garrus from being jettisoned in to space back on the engineering deck had dislocated her shoulder. She had pressed on, there being no time to attend to the wound, trying her best to ignore the pain. Her arm exploded in agony every time her shoulder moved; it was if her joint were bits of broken glass scraping away inside of her. On the wall to her right was a small panel marked FIRE. She used her good arm to slam the blinking green activation button; it slid open and she grabbed the extinguisher from inside.

_Fat lot of good this'll do,_ she thought, but she pulled the pin anyway, spraying flame-retardant chemicals where she could as she searched for survivors.

The medical bay of the ship was adjacent to the ship's mess-hall, in the rear of that was the research center; as Shepard approached the door to the med-bay she could hear a faint pounding and muffled cried for help. There was only one person that would have remained in the medical bay when the _Normandy_ was attacked. Shepard approached the door and hit the activation button. The holographic light remained orange. The door was jammed.

"Liara!" Shepard called, "Liara is that you in there?" The asari's voice called faintly through from the inside.

"Shepard!" Liara T'Soni called, "Oh, Commander, thank the goddess! Please, help me, the door won't open!" Shepard observed the center that locked together the large metal doors to the medical bay. She was no tech expert; she had no idea how to unlock it manually. She spied the almost empty extinguisher in her hand.

From behind her, several panels on the wall exploded in a shower of sparks and metal; the air filled with even more heat as steam and flames erupted from the ship's insides. Shepard hoisted the extinguisher, wincing as this tiny shift drove a biting ache through her right arm, and brought it down hard in to the door. The door dented slightly, but did not give way. She brought it down again and again, but still nothing. The door would not budge. Sparks reigned down from all around her. The ship rattled again, but not from a blast from the enemy ship; from underneath Shepard's feet she could feel and hear a steady and thunderous groaning build up from the decks below. The _Normandy _was falling apart.

"Liara!" Shepard cried out as she tossed the warped and dented extinguisher aside, "I'll get you out, just hold on!" Shepard looked about desperately for any possible help, or means of opening the door. Garrus was gone, still helping the others, and Tali and Kaiden were missing too. The cries of the crew had faded; hopefully they had all made it to the escape pods.

_Or they're dead_, Shepard thought, but quickly drove it from her mind. She caught sight of a weapons locker on the far side of the room; it was empty save for a shotgun. She gave a wary glance back to the door. _Hold on, Liara_. She turned and sprinted towards the locker; the ship began to sway a heavy right and she stumbled as it did, grabbing on to the corner of the wall. She hit the other side of the corner with her bad shoulder and cried out in pain. The ship wavered precariously for a moment or two, and then swerved back upright.

_Whatever you're doing up there, Joker, don't stop. We need all the time we can get._

Shepard regained her balance, took only a moment to recover from the fire that was burning all up and down her right arm, and made the last few steps to the weapons locker. The shotgun dangled by its harness solitarily. She grabbed it.

_Please let there be a few thermal clips left,_ she thought desperately. The digital meter on the side of the firearm was in the read, only a few bars of the two-dozen or so remained. This meant there was only one good shot left in the thing before it would over-heat. Shepard checked her N7 armor for any spare thermal clips; there were none. That meant there was only one shot, and she had to make it count. She ran back to the med-bay door, no explosions or swaying to slow her down this time.

"Liara!" she called to the inside, "Liara, stand back, I'm opening the door!" The shotgun was heavy in her one good arm but she managed to level the gun's muzzle to the center lock of the door; the commander steadied herself as best she could and braced herself for the recoil.

She pulled the trigger; the blast from the shotgun sent a wave of force that rocketed through her left arm and spun her violently; she just barely managed to avoid reeling as her back slammed against the adjacent wall. She hissed in pain, thinking briefly that it would be just her luck for her _other_ arm to be injured now as well; thankfully after only a few seconds she found she could move it still. It ached like hell, but it wasn't broken. She looked up and saw the center lock of the door, or what was left of it; the shotgun blast had left a hole five inches wide, the metal around it all twisted and mangled, sparks flying everywhere. The light above the door that had been glowing red, signaling a door jamb or obstruction, faded out. An armored hand poked through that center hole and began sliding the door open. Shepard walked over and used her right arm to help; the ache in it fading already. The doors were heavy and cumbersome without the hydraulics that usually slid them open with ease, but they opened all the same; as the space was made just wide enough, Liara T'Soni stumbled out, clutching a silver-briefcase as if it were a child. Even through the smoke that filled the deck and the obscured paneling on Liara's helmet, Commander Shepard could still see the fear enveloping the asari's youthful blue face.

"By the goddess Shepard!" Liara cried out, "Thank you! I was so worried I'd be killed in there…" She stood waveringly and Shepard could see the nervous smile through Liara's visor. "It seems as if you have once again rescued me from my own foolishness." Shepard ignored that bit of nostalgia, the flames and groaning of the _Normandy_ taking a deserved priority.

"Liara, what the hell is that?" the commander said to Liara sternly, motioning towards the briefcase. Liara averted her gaze.

"It is, um, my data…when the ship was hit I had to rescue it…" Shepard shook her head in agitation and grabbed Liara's shoulder, tugging her along towards the opposite side of the deck where the remaining escape pods awaited them; she saw that Garrus, Kaiden, and Tali were shepherding the last of the _Normandy_ crew to safety. She realized that most of them had made it out relatively unscathed, and she was thankful.

"Liara!" Shepard admonished, "The next time you endanger your life, as well as mine, for a couple of damned files, I swear I'll be the first to suggest leaving you behind!" Liara's voice was sheepish in her protest.

"I was salvaging all of our discoveries about Sovereign and the Prothean genocide," Liara said, "Invaluable data in our fight against the reapers!" Shepard stopped as they reached the others, just as they were shuttling the last of the crew on the escape pods.

"I don't care, Liara," Shepard said, "The safety of the crew comes first! Data can always be found again. Understood?"

"Yes, Commander…" Liara made her way by Kaiden and Tali.

"That's the last of the crew!" Kaiden called out, his voice barely audible over the exploding panel's of the _Normandy_'s interior.

"Except for one!" Tali said, "It's Joker commander! He refuses to abandon ship! He still thinks he can save the _Normandy!"_ Shepard looked around and saw the damage that had been done; the entire deck was bathed a furious red of flames and emergency lighting. The groaning of the ships disintegrating hull superseded even the bursting electrical panels and collapsing weapons lockers and shelves all around them. The ship rocked violently yet again; the violet kinetic barriers flashed to life, meaning that somewhere on the _Normandy _there was a hole large enough to have sucked out all of the oxygen on the upper deck. From the one remaining speaker on the wall above them, they could hear Joker's voice on the transmission channel:

"This is Jeff Moreau of the _SSR_ _Normandy_, ID:48151623, we are under attack! I repeat, we are under attack! Can anyone read me?"

_He actually thinks he can save it,_ Shepard thought. She turned to the others. "All of you!" she said, "On to the escape pod now! I want you off this ship! I'll get Joker myself!" She headed towards the stairs that lead to the command deck.

"We aren't leaving you!" Kaiden called to her.

"Dammit, Kaiden still we have crew that have to get off this ship. You're getting out now, that's an order!" Kaiden, Tali, and Liara hesitated for only a moment, and then made their way in to the escape pod.

"Garrus," Sheppard said, "Come here a second, I need you." Garrus approached her. She motioned towards her left arm. "My shoulder is dislocated. I need you to pop it back in." Garrus gently took hold of her arm in one hand and supported her shoulder with the other. With one quick movement he thrust her arm upward and jammed her shoulder back in to place. It was like fire burning away underneath her skin; she hissed in pain.

"I'm not leaving you, Shepard," Garrus said, quietly. "I'll go down with the _Normandy _if I must, but will not abandon you._" _She knew he meant it too.

_Dammit, Garrus._ If anyone were to stay behind, she was glad it was him.

"Make sure the others get off, then," she said, "And prep a pod for me and Joker." Garrus nodded and turned to assist the others. "Garrus!" He turned back to her.

"If I'm not back in three minutes, you get the hell off of this ship." She could see no hint of compliance or defiance through the visor of his helmet. He stood for a moment, wordlessly, and then went to help the others. She watched him go.

Then she turned back herself and passed through the kinetic barrier, up to the command deck of the _Normandy._

* * *

The first thing she heard was the silence. The moment she passed through the barrier all of the sound, the crackling of sparks and creaking of metal and hissing of escape pods jettisoning from the soon-to-be wreckage of the _Normandy_ was replaced with utter, eerie silence. She ascended the stairs and emerged to find the command deck of the ship obliterated.

The galaxy-map console, where she herself had so often stood in the past, deciding which distant star the _Normandy's_ crew would travel to next, was completely gone, a rent hunk of metal all that remained in its place. The small narrow navigations section of the ship where the crew had worked was ghostly, nothing left of it but the few chairs that floated aimlessly in the zero-gravity. The whole deck was bathed in a pale blue glow; a hole almost eighteen feet wide and ten feet tall had been punched in to the side of the ship; the icy tundra of the planet Alchera filled the void that the once proud ship had left behind. The stars were bold and unwavering in their light.

_My God. It's over, it's really all over. The _Normandy_ is dead._

At the end of the deck, past the navigations sector, a kinetic barrier guarded the pilot's section. Inside she could see Joker, still valiantly at the helm, frantically working the controls of the ship. She made her way to him; it was slow work; her magnetic boots were the only things keeping her from drifting off in to the emptiness of space, and every step she took seemed an eon. The radio in her helmet was relaying Joker's outgoing message; he was still desperately working to save the doomed ship.

"This is the _SSR_ _Normandy_! If there are any Council or Alliance ships nearby, please, we need help!" Sheppard made it through the barrier that separated Joker from the vacuum of space. He wore his emergency helmet; a small kinetic barrier acting as a makeshift shield from the flying debris and a safeguard in case the barrier behind him were to suddenly fail.

"Joker!" Shepard said, "Come on, we have to go! There's only one escape pod left!"

"No!" Joker said, the desperation in his voice very audible, "No, I won't leave, I can still save her!" In a way, Shepard understood Joker's wavering devotion; the man's brittle bones meant he as in this cockpit almost twenty-four hours a day; the _Normandy _was his legs, his only means of showing the world he wasn't just some cripple. He loved this ship more than anything else in the galaxy.

_But dead is dead, and the Normandy is gone no matter what we do._ "Come on Joker," she urged, "The _Normandy_ is gone! Now we have to leave too or we'll be no better off1"

"No!" Joker worked away at the controls of the ship defiantly, "I told you commander, I…oh no…" Joker pointed at a reading from the ship's exterior sensors, which displayed a huge energy spike on the starboard side of the ship. "They're coming around for another attack!" Shepard had no time for Joker's stubbornness; she grabbed hold of his shoulder with her right and used her bad one to hoist him out of his chair (her shoulder was working but her whole left arm burned like hell). As she lifted him his leg hit the large metal pilots chair; there was an audible crack as one of the bones in his leg splintered. Joker screamed in pain.

"Watch the legs, godammit!"

"Better your leg than the rest of you!" Shepard cried and balanced him on to her shoulder; as they passed the gaping hole they saw the enemy ship again, a hulking monstrosity, the beam in its center aglow again, preparing to fire another round.

"Holy shit." Joker said. Sheppard began to walk a little faster, the heavy magnetic boots seeming lighter in her fear.

* * *

"Shepard!" Garrus called as she and Joker reached the middle deck, "Thank God!" Shepard ran to the escape pod, Joker being carried on her shoulder's like a sack of flour. She placed him in to the seat of the escape pod. There was a dark spot spreading in his pants down at the leg.

"Think a bone punctured the skin," Joker wheezed. Garrus stood beside her.

"Shepard-" Garrus started as an explosive beam ripped through the hull of the ship, tearing what remained of the _Normandy apart. _knocking Garrus in to the pod and slamming Shepard violently in to the adjacent wall. The red emergency lights were flashing brightly and there was a loud _whooshing _sounds as the air began to be sucked from the deck. Shepard clutched a hold of the wall, but the force of the vacuum was much stronger this time, and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold on.

"Commander!" Garrus cried, reaching out to her and simultaneously bracing himself from the pull of the vacuum, "Shepard, hold on!" the escape pod activation controls were only inches away from her; she had no time to think. She reached up and slammed on the airlock controls, and the pod doors shut, sealing Garrus and Joker inside. She could see Garrus through the glass panel of the pod; he was pounding his fists against the sealed doors. "Shepard! No! Shepard!"

Then, just as her strength was beginning to fail and her grip on the wall beginning to looses: _"Christine!"_ She slammed on the LAUNCH button as hard as she could, and just like that Garrus and Joker were speeding away from her.

A singular, final explosion tore through the ship. It flung the commander from the wall and slammed her in to a protruding beam; from inside her N7 armor she heard the bones in her leg crack and an unbearable pain ripped through her as the bones from her leg pierced her flesh and the airtight protection of her suit. Another explosion rocked the remainder of the deck and she was strewn like a ragdoll, her back slamming against another beam; the pain in her leg vanished instantly as her spine broke and the lower half of her body went numb. She was going in to shock. The communicator in her helmet buzzed to life, and through a sea of pain and static she could hear Garrus' voice faintly on the other side.

_"Shepard, are you there!?"_

"Garrus-" she said, and a final blast rent her from the wreckage that was once the _Normandy_ and sent her hurtling in to the darkness of space.


	3. Prologue: All Those Fading Stars III

_AN:__ This is quickly becoming my favorite pastime __I just want to say thank you to all of the readers for their support; I'm so glad you enjoy the story _

_But again, if you do read __Rebirth__, _**please take the time to review**._ Your comments and criticisms, no matter how biting or praising, are very important to me._

_Special thanks to allsafeandsound, as well as Alex G, Michael C, and my teachers Mr. Cobb and Mr. McCall._

_Christine, always._

**Rebirth**

By Jericho Pryce

"_This is where new __stars__ are made, __old__stars__fade__ away.__" – Allen Johnson_

"_This is the way the world ends: Not with a bang, but a whimper" – T. S. Eliot_

Prologue:   
All Those Fading Stars (Part III)

Weightless. Starlight all around. Ahead of her (or is it behind her? In front of her? Below her? There is no direction…) the Normandy is floating, broken and dead, light from the flames of its insides glowing faintly in her belly.

The enemy ship was gone, vanished as quickly as it had come.

Her back is broken. She is faintly aware of a hissing sound; the air in her suit is being stolen from her by the vacuum of space. She grabs at her helmet. She struggles. She doesn't know why. She knows she is dying.

"Christine!" His voice, faint, in her ear. He sounds distressed. Worried. She doesn't like it. She struggles with her helmet. No use. "Christine!"

God oh god oh no oh please oh-

Why is she so afraid? She'd fought in so many battles, risked her life so knowingly so many times, why should this be any different? Because she had finally lost? Because the luck she had been gambling with for so many years has finally run out?

She takes a breath and tastes nothing; the air is almost gone. She can't move anymore; her arm is burning, her legs feel nothing at all. She floats, she flies, she falls through the glow of the planet Alchera, in the company of stars.

She is alone.

"Garrus…"

She can barely speak his name; her tongue is dry, her lips are swollen. She tastes blood, and wonders vaguely why it will not dry her tongue. Silence. Static. His voice, again:

"Shepard! Christine! Are you okay? Where are you, the transmitter in your armor must have broken; we can't figure out where you-"

He fades, and she is scared because she is alone again and she needs him and there's no one left and-

She is always the strong one, the leader. She is the one who carries the weight of the world. She floats, she falls, she is scared, she

* * *

_is nine, roaming the decrepit back alleys of Old New York. There are a couple of boxes, a drunk in the street. He might be dead. She doesn't know. She is scared. _

_She is hungry, and she is scared._

_They come from the other side, they're shadows, they're the monsters her brother always scared her with and now her brother is dead, a victim of one of the gangs. The_

(monsters shadows)

_boys are big and they're tough and one of them says Look at the little bitch! And the others laugh and they come closer and she can't move because she is scared and_

(her spine is gone and she tastes blood and the stars are so bright that they almost hurt her eyes)

_she feels a wetness. She's pissed herself. One of the boys laughs and throws his cigarette at her and it hits her cheek and it burns and she cries. The acrid stench of beer and smoke fills her nose and they come closer and the big one is taking off his belt. She whimpers "Help…"They keep laughing and all of a sudden there's a bang and there's blood and the biggest boy falls and the other boys scream and behind her she sees _

("Christine!" Garrus says, "Christine I'm here! Don't go do you hear me I said-")

_him standing there, another boy, not like them though; he's tall and he has a gun and he says "Back off!" and the other boys that aren't the one on the ground with a hole in his head run. There's blood everywhere and the air still smells of smoke from the gun but she's safe and she's okay. He tells her his name is Spike. A stupid name, she loves it. _

_He tells her he's with_

* * *

_the Renegades!" she cries. She's been with them for years, the Renegades. They run and they play and they steal because they're hungry and they'll beat up the kids from the rival gangs, and she's tough and she's strong and they respect her. They saved her from the streets, from the other big boys. Spike saved her. She loves him. She's fourteen. He has a lot of girlfriends. She wants to be one of them._

_They've robbed a convenience store and the man's yelling out and she sticks her head back and sticks out her tongue and Spike turns back too and he flips him the bird and everyone laughs and she loves him, she does, because she's safe and he's there and he's never left her, not once, and that's why she_

* * *

_loves him, at sixteen, a cold and impersonal thing. It's late. She'd been sleeping. He comes to her and says I love you. He tells that to every girl he sleeps with, but she believes it now. It's a promise._

_He's become the leader of the Renegades. There has been more violence, lately. More robberies, more gang fights. Spike has openly discussed killing a rival gang leader. She says she'll do it with him, for him. He says I know you will, birdie (that's what he calls her is birdie after some old cartoon and she loves it when he does because it means I love you or so she tells herself)._

_He's on top of her. It hurts, a little. It wasn't like she'd always thought it would be, it was supposed to be a promise, an I'll Love You Forever, but it was okay, because her life was full of disappointments. She says I love you, Spike. He doesn't look at her, he doesn't speak. She wants to say I promise to love you forever! She wants him to promise her too. But he can't break a promise he doesn't make. When it's over he leaves. Nine months later she is_

* * *

_Weeping. Seventeen. The baby is gone and Spike wasn't there and even though she loves Spike so much she hates him too and she cries as she lays in the hospital bed and the doctors don't know what to say to some poor little orphan girl who got knocked up by a punk and he's not there, he's not there, he's-_

_Shut up! she says to her heart when it tells her he was wrong, that he doesn't love her. Shut up! Shut up! He promised me so shut up!_

_He never promised. Just another one of her dreams, like the fading stars in the twilight at the sunrise._

_

* * *

_

Space, again. Cold, and empty. She floats, she falls. Garrus is saying something, she cannot understand him, he is too far away_. It's okay, his voice enough._ She doesn't want to be alone.

These memories are not painful. She has long since learned to let go of the past.

_If that's true,_ she tells herself, _then why do you shed tears as you remember his voice, as he tells you _

_

* * *

_'_I'm sorry you had to take the fall.'_

_Eighteen. Jail. Spike said he wanted the leader of the rival gang, the Bastards, dead. She told him she'd do it. He'd said I know birdie. They caught her with a gun. She didn't kill him. She couldn't. The first bullet had gotten his throat and there was so much blood and she tried to help but when the police came they took her away. He tells her he's sorry she had to take the fall. _

_He told them he'd never even met her before. _

_No family. No friends. They throw her away._

_She sleeps in a cell for the first time that night. The bars are still made of iron here, not in the big cities where everything is lasers and robots and light. It is dark. She hates the dark. Through the window, the clouds block out all of the moonlight and the_

(Stars all around her. It's been thirteen seconds since her air ran out. She can't breathe. She wants to talk to Garrus. Silence.)

_stars. She has nightmares, of monsters in alleyways and cold prison walls and I love yous that always mean nothing at all. When she awakes a man is sitting there, by her cell. He says he's from the military. The Alliance. He wants to make a deal._

_

* * *

_

_Eighteen. Freedom. The Alliance military offers her everything she ever wanted. Safety. Security. Respect. In the Alliance everyone says Yes sir or no sir or thank you or yes ma'm or no ma'm or-_

_The boot camp instructor plants her face in the dirt and breaks her arms down with a thousand push-ups and she likes that. A 3 x 5 cot won't stab you in the back. A well oiled gun won't lie with 'I love you'._

_

* * *

_

_The planet of Akuze. Twenty two. She's climbed the ranks, gained respect. She's the top in her platoon. She's traveled through space, gone as far from Old New York as she could possibly go. She barely remembers it. She'd received some news about the death of a gang-leader in Old New York. Went by the name of Spike. She was shocked to find that she didn't care. She didn't need love. She had her squad._

_Then the thresher maw attacks. A hulking monstrosity of flesh and teeth and a roar that will split open mountains, or so some native aliens said. _

_They fought valiantly. They all died. _

_Except for her of course. She was left alone. So it goes. _

_So it always goes._

_

* * *

_

Closer now, ever closer. Alchera looms larger than life before her. She sees that the stars have begun to lose their luster in its awesome reflection.

"Garrus," she says. She wouldn't last much longer. Her voice is faint. His voice, fainter still.

"Christine! Hang on, Commander!" Silence. Then: "I promise I'll find you, Christine."

Promises. Always promises.

"The stars…" she says.

"What? Commander, I don't-"

* * *

"_-think the galaxy is ready for a human Spectre." The turian Council member has never trusted her. It was fine, she understood. No one trusts her. No one knew her enough to try._

"_It doesn't matter if the galaxy is ready for a human Spectre," the asari Council member retorted, "The galaxy needs Commander Shepard." The others reluctantly agree. They bestow upon her the rights of a Council Spectre. She can go anywhere, do anything that needs to be done to protect the galaxy. There is pomp, and ceremony. She doesn't care for it._

_But it was everything she'd ever wanted. Respect. Security. The power to know that the only one who could ever decide her fate was her. The scar running across her lower stomach is barely noticeable. She hasn't thought about it in years. The baby's name was Alex. She told him she'd love him forever. He died. She broke her promise._

_There would be no more death. Not if she could help it._

_Saren. He was the threat. A rogue turian Spectre who would kill all the humans of the galaxy, if he could. She would be happy to stop him. But first she'd need a team._

_

* * *

_

She remembers them all:

Kaiden Alenko, who'd once killed a turian trainer in the name of a love that he went on to lose.

Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, the quarian trapped in her environmental suit, like all of her race. She was on her Pilgrimage, a rite of passage for her people. She only wanted to help anyone she met.

Liara T'Soni, the naïve asari scientist who had so much to learn about the cruelties the galaxy had to offer.

Ashley Williams, tough and self-assured. She gave her life on Virmire so that Shepard could stop Saren.

Urdnot Wrex, the violent and bitter krogan. He wanted to unite his people. He was a leader, he just didn't know it.

And of course, him.

* * *

_She sees him for the first time, after a firefight of all things. A turian, young, confident. A security officer on the Citadel. She's been told he's a hot head, someone who still thinks he can change the world. He holsters his sniper rifle only moments after she takes down the last thug._

"_Hello," he says, "I'm Garrus Vakarian." He smiles, in the odd charismatic way that turians can smile. Later, she'll find how serious he can be, how absorbed in his work and in his thoughts, and how rare that smile really is._

_She'll find he only smiles like that around her._

_

* * *

_

_And now she's taking his hand by the Mako, floating and flying and falling and happy for the first time in such a long time because for once it's not the fighting that's providing her a purpose, for once she doesn't have to worry about getting lost in the eyes of a liar, of I love you._

_He tells her he'd be lost without her. She doesn't know him enough to love him. His hand is warm. He's an alien, so maybe in his culture there are no hearts to break. She can't believe she's thinking this. She doesn't need love. She has her squad._

_She thinks: What's the difference? and then a blast rocks the ship and her world is rent apart._

* * *

And now she's floating, flying, falling, and she cannot breathe, it's far too late to breathe. Her lungs quieted completely. The blood in her temple stopped its flowing. The stars were fading faster, but it wasn't the stars that were fading, it was her.

"Shepard…" Garrus' again. "Commander…Christine…talk to me…say anything at all…" _We'd all be lost without you. Myself, most of all._

"Christine…_please._"

"Garrus…I…"

She wants to say she's sorry. To the baby. To her brother. To Garrus, for taking his hand like that, for breaking a promise before she could even make it. But before she can tell him this she finds the stars have faded completely and her lungs have faded and her heart has faded too and it's too soon, too soon, too soon, too late.

_All those fading stars. All those broken promises._

In the pale blue glow of the planet Alchera, floating as freely and insignificantly as a speck of dust caught in the sunlight, Commander Christine Shepard, hero of the Battle of the Citadel, renowned Spectre and a leader respected by all those who followed her, was dead.


	4. Chapter 1: Mixed Blessings

_AN: I would like to start off by apologizing for the incredibly long delay between updates. I had originally planned to take maybe a week to plan out the story more and rest, but that turned into more of a month; for all of you who have been patiently awaiting an update to this little story o' mine, I'm sincerely sorry for the delay and I hope this update was worth the wait. I've worked hard on it and I'm incredibly excited for its continuing. It's not the longest update, but it's setting the stage for a story that follows Mass Effect 2 but is also all my own. To all who read this story, thank you. I hope you love reading it as much as I love writing it._

_Again, if you do read and enjoy (or even dislike) Rebirth, _**please take the time to review**_**. **__Your feedback helps me keep the story strong and ever-evolving. _

_For Christine._

**Rebirth**

"_It is a very __mixed __blessing __to be __brought __back __from the __dead__.__" – Kurt Vonnegut_

Chapter One:   
Mixed Blessings (Part I)

Christine Shepard came awake with a start, a panicked and terrified gasp just barely escaping her lips. Her breath was caught in her throat and it felt like her lungs had frozen shut, like she was

(_floating flying falling_)

suffocating. It was almost pitch dark, the only light being faint blue glow that dimly illuminated Shepard's peripheral vision like a distant street lamp or a solitary evening star. She could not bring herself to move or breath or blink; her stomach twisted and knotted with the most intense sensation of vertigo.

Her senses were split in two different directions. On one hand she lay frozen in her bed, her hands clasping the few sheets on her bed so tightly that her nails pierced the sheets and dug in to her palms. In another time, another place, she was hurtling through the blackness of space accompanied only by pale blue glow of Alchera, the fading cries of her distant companion

(_Christine I promise I'll find you I promise)_

and the terrifying inevitability of her own death. She was reliving every moment of it as if she werethere again, floating again, flying again, falling again. Dying again.

_Oh please stop this, please, I can't go on like this, I can't, just let it end, please, just let it end!_

It did. Her heartbeat relaxed and her lungs opened up, allowing her to breathe in the air of the living once more. The feelings of vertigo and paralysis lingered a few moments longer, like a lover in the midst of a deep sleep, but soon they abandoned her as well. Her grip on the few bed sheets that she had not tossed off in her terror loosened. She laid her head back and heaved a heavy sigh.

_Not again_, she thought. _I can't keep doing this._

She eased herself up slowly and sat upright on the bed, her mind finally clear (if not fully awake), her eyes adjusting to the darkness. Of course, it was not the infinite void of space she found herself in but the Captain's Quarters of the _Normandy SR-2_. The dim blue light that filtered through the darkness was not the icy reflection of the planet of Alchera but the faint luminescence of the inside lights of the large fish-tank that made up the far right wall near the entrance to the room. The exotically colored fish swam about their facsimile, happy and oblivious. Shepard sat in this darkness, immobile and silent, save for the distant and steady hum of the _Normandy_'s engine.

The sound of a chime breached the silence of the room and suddenly the lights were brought to life; Shepard cried out in agitation and shielded her eyes. Beside her bed, from a panel on the nightstand, a blue holographic orb sprang in to life; it was the ship's artificial intelligence, the Enhanced Defense Intelligence (though everyone simply referred to it as EDI). EDI's hologram rippled and spun with visual representations of heavy computation. The orb spoke in a cool female voice, dulcet yet ever so subtly mechanical. As it spoke a band of lighter blue collapsed and expanded in rhythm with the words, an odd facsimile of a mouth.

"Good morning Commander Shepard", it said, "The time is now 09:15 Galactic Standard Time. The room's sensors detected irregular heartbeat and REM patterns in the night; is everything alright?" Sheppard found the idea of the ship being able to monitor her vital signs as she slept somehow unnerving. Her eyes has by now adjusted to the light, and she took a moment to observe her room. The room was larger than what she was used to; her double bed took up a living area along with a sofa and a small oak bookshelf to her left, along with a small leather chair, and a telemonitor and a locker for on the wall across from it. A few steps led up to the higher level of the room where the aquarium made the entire upper half of the rightmost wall; across from the aquariuma large desk wrapped around the left and back walls, and the door took up the rest of the back wall. The entire room was colored in a scheme of a dark military gray, save for her bed and some of the oak furniture. To Commander Sheppard the room felt roomy, comfortable, and still, after two days, altogether alien.

"Commander Shepard?" EDI said. The Commander buried her face in her hands for a moment and then stood from her bed.

"Yes, EDI," Shepard said as she bent backwards to stretch, "What is it?"

"I had inquired as to whether or not you were feeling alright. Sensors indicated-"

"Yes, I know," Shepard interrupted, "Abnormal heart-rate and REM patterns. I was having some bad dreams, EDI, nothing to worry about."

"That is good, Commander," EDI said. "I would also like to inform you that Miss Lawson wished to come up to your quarters and meet with you. Should I allow her access to the cabin?"

"Miranda Lawson?" Shepard asked, "She wants to meet with me this early?"

"The entire crew has actually been awake for some time, Commander, since 07:00 GST to be precise. I was, according to orders, to wake you at this time as well, but Miss Lawson and Mr. Taylor insisted that I allow you more time to rest."

"You were going to wake me _under orders_, EDI? Who exactly has been giving you these orders aboard my ship?"

"You, Commander Shepard; according to the last recorded logs during prior to the destruction of the original _Normandy SR-1 _and your death, you had dictated that every member of the crew, including yourself, was to awake by 07:00 GTS in accordance to the Alliance Navy's regulations. As the acting artificial-intelligence on the _Normandy SR-2_, it is my duty to, among other things, replicate the atmosphere and order of the original _Normandy_ unless otherwise ordered by yourself, Commander."

Sheppard was silent for a moment; to hear of her ship, of her own death, spoken about in the past tense was disquieting, unnerving, disturbing. She stood and approached the mirror that hung by the clothes locker on the wall to the right of her bed, observing her reflection. She stood, clothed only in a white night-shirt and plain white cotton panties. She was relatively tall, thin but muscular. Her skin was a pale white and the darker parts of her arms and legs were dotted with freckles. Her auburn hair was of a medium length and had become tussled in her sleep. Her lips were thin with a natural hue of pink, her nose was small, her cheekbones strong but not protruding.

Her most distinguishing characteristic were her fierce emerald green eyes, which burned with life even has the rest of her body was recovering from its fatigue. Looking in the mirror, it was if the attack on the Normandy had happened only yesterday. Not a blemish on her body betrayed the fact that she had, in fact, been dead for two years before two days ago.

Except for the scars.

They were barely noticeable at a distance; she had to step closer to the mirror to observe the crisscross of lines that ran across her entire face. Each scar was marked with a dim artificial glow, the signs of the various nanomachines that worked busily on her tissues, ensuring that she healed. The rest of her body may have forgotten the past, but the scars remembered everything. They remembered that Christine Shepard had been brought back from the dead.

Shepard opened up the locker and saw the captains apparel inside. She pulled out the standard uniform, an overly-ordained shirt and some pants decorated in a pattern of black, gold, and white. On the right breast of the shirt read the words _Commander Christine Shepard_. Underneath that, the words _Captain of the Normandy SR-2. Cerberus._ She dressed in silence.

"Commander Shepard?" EDI inquired again, "What am I to tell Miss Lawson?"

Shepard observed herself in the mirror again, fully dressed. It felt good to be in uniform again, she thought, it felt right. She caught the word _Cerberus_ underneath her name, and a twinge of doubt entered in to her.

"Tell Miranda that I'll meet her on deck" Shepard said.

"Aye aye, Commander," EDI replied, and her hologram vanished with a faint hum. Sheppard didn't like the idea of an artificial-intelligence helping to run the ship, and she enjoyed the _Cerberus_ on her uniform even less. She would go see Miranda, because she had a lot of questions to ask.

Such as, "Why did you bring me back from the dead?"

Christine Shepard walked out of the door of her room that led to the ships elevator. She stepped inside and hit the button marked _Command Information Center_.

_I think it's time for some answers._

The doors slid closed, and the Commander descended_._

* * *

_And so the first chapter of _Rebirth_ begins! Again, I apologize for such a long wait, but my schedule looks to finally be clearing up, and I am so excited to continue bringing this story to you all. I know the events and the chronology may be strange at first, but trust me, I have a plan :)_

_Again, **please take the time to review **if you read Rebirth; it means a lot to me personally and it helps the story continue to be perfected. Thank you to all who read and anyone who becomes a new fan. The new update will be longer and should be completed in about a week. Long days and pleasant nights to you all!*_

_Till then,_

_J_

_*The first person who can pinpoint the origin of this reference get's a cookie** and a shout out in the next update!_

_**Well, a virtual cookie, at least._


	5. Chapter 1: Mixed Blessings II

_AN: Well, do I owe you guys a serious explanation. You know when I said it'd be updated in a week and it took…three months? Yeah, I had absolutely no clue that school would devour me as it did. Let's just say that the past three months leading up to graduation have been literally the most stressful of my life. So, hopefully understandably enough, taking the time for personal things like writing this story was, well…out of the question._

_But I still feel like I owe you readers an apology. My story may not mean much to everyone's Grand Scheme in the long run, but I take pride in the fact that I provide a little thought-provoking entertainment for everybody now and again, and I feel like in denying you guys that little escapist reprieve for three months was little lame of me. So, for what it's worth, I'm sorry._

_But summer is here and school is not, and the time for writing is, once again, at hand. So to those of you just starting this story out I say "Welcome!" I hope you enjoy._

_And to those old readers that remain (and of whom I had very few to begin with), I say thanks._

_As always, your feedback and input make this story better all the time, so _**please review**_; thank you all so much!_

_And of course, Christine. Always for you._

**Rebirth**

by Jericho Pryce

Chapter One:  
Mixed Blessings (Part II)

The elevator doors slid open and Commander Shepard entered the main deck of the _Normandy,_ the Command Information Center.

Again, she was struck with the strangest combination of nostalgia and an eerie unfamiliarity. The ship that she found herself on was indeed incredibly reminiscent of the _SSV Normandy_ that she remembered so well, yet it was incredibly different as well. The deck was at least twice as large as the original's, with room for at least two dozen crewmen to operate at their individual stations; Shepard was lucky to have had five or six technicians and navigators working with with her two years ago in the same space; the fact that each member of the crew was afforded a rather luxurious workspace, with large leather chairs and room for personal effects for every member, was still registering with her.

The holographic galaxy map that took up the majority of the center of the Command deck was largely unchanged, save for a fancier operation terminal and the new paint job, the same pattern of ivory ebony, and gold that graced the entire ship, interior and exterior. From the elevator the Commander could see the navigations center at the bow of the ship. Again, the design mirrored the original _Normandy_'s, but everything was bigger, shinier, more accommodating. The original ship was a military cruiser, and the Alliance could not have cared less about the luxuries of their crew, as long as everyone was operating safely and efficiently. Shepard still didn't know how she felt about leather chairs and cup-holders.

At the end of the navigations hall she could see Joker sitting at the helm and barking orders to his crew-mates. She smiled; at least one thing hadn't changed. And the orders appeared to be working; the entire deck was all hustle-and bustle, and everyone seemed to be where they needed to be and doing what they needed to do. This eased the Commander's tensions a little; it always calmed her to know her ship was up and running well.

_Her ship. _

This thought gave the Commander reason to pause. It was her ship, wasn't it? She'd been on board for only two days, and the thought of it being _her_ ship was still an alien one. But new paint-job or not, it was still the _Normandy_, and she was still the captain. Looking around at her crew, most of them faces she couldn't yet even attach names to, she felt for the first time that might want to get used to the idea if she was to do her job.

She looked down to the title that was stitched in to the breast of her uniform, her tensions rising again as she caught the name _Cerberus _below her title of Captain, as she realized that she didn't really know what her job even was.

"Commander Shepard!" The voice that called her name was cheery and perky, and it gave Christine a start as she snapped out of her own thoughts. She looked up and saw the woman who was stationed near the holographic map, a young woman she recognized her as her so-called secretary; she remembered meeting her two days ago, but she couldn't remember her name, and tried desperately to recall it as the woman approached.

"Commander", she said, smiling, "we've been waiting for you to wake up. Normally the entire crew is up and operating according to the same schedule, but EDI thought you might've needed more time to rest, given, well, _everything._"

"Tell EDI thanks for me, I guess, " Christine replied. She was still trying to remember the girl's name. As if reading her mind, the woman smiled and said, "It's Kelly, m'am, Kelly Chambers."

"Yes, Kelly, that's right. Sorry about that," Sheppard said.

"Don't worry about it m'am. You're just as new as the rest of the crew, and I'm sure all the stress you've been under hasn't helped your short term memory any." When Kelly said this the Commander remembered Kelly's other, "unofficial" position: The ship's psychological analyst, in charge of making sure everyone aboard was sound mentally as well as physically.

"To be honest, Kelly, it hasn't," Shepard replied, "But that isn't why I've come down."

"I'm sure you'll be wanting to talk to Miss Lawson or Mr. Taylor," Kelly said. As sweet as the secretary might seem, Christine felt that perhaps her constant predicting of actions would become a little grating, and the Commander's patience was thin, already.

"If you could just direct me to Miss Lawson, er, Miranda, was it? That would be great." Kelly smiled (again) and told Christine that Miranda actually waiting for her in the Communications Room. Christine thanked her, and made her way in that direction.

* * *

Christine entered the communications room and found Miranda Lawson sitting at the head of the table, obviously waiting for her. She recalled disliking Miranda when they first met; she observing the beautiful woman's smug features, Christine realized her feelings hadn't changed much.

"Commander," Miranda said, "It's nice to see that you're finally awake. I trust you're adjusting to the ship?"

"It's all still a bit new," Christine replied, taking her seat. "The luxuries, the space; it's so much larger than the original _Normandy_…"

"Twice as large, to be precise," Miranda said. "Now, Shepard, I'd love to continue idle conversation, but you didn't come down here for chit-chat, did you?" The woman was blunt as well as arrogant and presumptuous, and that absolutely grated on Christine's nerves; still, her role as the commander of the ship came before any personal issues with the crew. She would play nice.

"I just want answers, Ms. Lawson; I wake up on your station two days ago with no idea how I got there or what's going on. You've let me rest, and I appreciate that, but right now I'd like to know what's really going on."

Miranda smiled. "We'd anticipated as much, Commander, and that's why the Illusive Man wishes to speak with you in person. So to speak."

The name of the Illusive Man sent waves of tension down Christine's spine; during her time in the Alliance he was notorious, the leader of a pro-human agency known as Cerberus, the name that currently adorned Christine's own uniform, right below her name. Cerberus labeled itself as an interest group, but the assassinations and acts of political violence linked to them made sure that the entire galaxy simply labeled them as terrorists. The Illusive Man was named so because nobody in the alliance knew his name or had even seen his face. Until Commander Shepard, it seemed.

Miranda stood and the floor before Christine opened up, and the table they both had been sitting at disappeared in to the ground. The floor closed again and Christine, standing now, saw the static flicker of a hologram buzz to life before her. The image cleared revealing a suave-looking man, seemingly in his early fifties, with slick silver hair and a cigarette balanced in his fingers. His mechanical blue eyes glowed eerily in their sockets. It was the Illusive Man.

"Hello, Commander Shepard," he said, smiling wryly as he spoke, "it's good to speak to you again. I trust you've rested well since we brought you back?" _Brought you back._ The words still rang eerily in the Commander's ears; suddenly, the fear and panic of her earlier dreams came rushing back.

The Commander had been dead for two years up until two days ago.

The thought was still unreal to the Commander, a woman whose very life revolved around absolutes, blacks and whites. Life and death were absolutes in Shepard's life until very recently, and the fact that she had…had _died_ was something that she hadn't even stopped to contemplate yet because it wasn't something she _could _contemplate_. _She was supposed to be gone, but Cerberus and their infinitely large funding and access to technology had been able to wipe clean the permanence of death, and Christine was still trying to come to grips with what that actually meant. And she didn't know what frightened her the most: the fact that a terrorist groups such as Cerberus was capable of bringing the dead back to life, or the fact that nobody seemed to treat it as the miracle that it was.

To everyone else she'd met since she'd awoken it was simply as if she'd taken a two year long vacation; even Joker seemed content to return to his usual sarcastic quips and cynicisms as if nothing had changed since she'd left; never mind that she'd discovered that the Council had completely disregarded the evidence of the Reapers, the galactic threat she'd fought so hard to prove the existence of in the first place; never mind that her crew had been disbanded and scattered across the galaxy.

Shepard suddenly felt incredibly alone. Still, she knew that the Illusive man had brought her back for a reason, one apparently concerning the reapers. She wasn't about to play patsy to a pro-human terrorist, but he was the one ally she still seemed to have in this galaxy.

"I have been resting," she replied, "thank you."

"And the ship is to your liking?"

"It's very…luxurious. The crew seems to appreciate it very much."

"But not you?"

"It's all very..alien to me. I'm not used to being pampered."

"Well," the Illusive Man said, "I wouldn't call comfortable chairs the epitome of 'pampering', but I do my best to make sure all of the Cerberus employees are accommodated. Including you." The illusive Man smiled, and Shepard had to restrain from scowling. She didn't like the idea of being lumped in to Cerberus' work force. She owed them her life, admittedly, but she was still a Spectre. Council Support or no, the only person who was about to give her orders was herself.

"Sir, I have to say I don't understand your calling me a member of Cerberus. I still don't even really understand why you brought me back in the first place. Before I don't anything for you, because I know you want _something_ from me, I need to know what exactly it is you need me for." The Illusive Man smiled; clearly, he enjoyed the company of someone who wasn't simply a 'yes' man. Still, his confidence unnerved Christine; it meant that regardless of what she said, he knew she'd do what he wanted.

"We've already told you our main threat: The Collectors, an alien race that reside on the outermost rim of populated space. They're notorious for obtaining foreign life-forms and experimenting on them, though for what we don't really know."

"They've been abducting colonies," Christine said with, "Or at least so you think. But what does bringing me back have to do with any of your goals, your 'advancements of human interests in the galaxy'?"

"Not advancement, Shepard," he said, "_Preservation_. Hundreds of human colonies across the galaxy have been disappearing over-night. Not attacked, not destroyed. The buildings and possessions remain, but the humans are all gone. They're ghost towns. And Alliance intel has given us reason to believe that these abductions are being carried out by the Collectors. Though they couldn't have done it alone. The technology they would need to accomplish this is far too advanced for them to have had it smuggled in by some batarians. No, Sheppard, their help is a much more ancient, and deadly source."

"The Reapers," the Commander continued, her eyes growing the faintest bit wider.

"Yes, Shepard, the Reapers. Since your death the oncoming assault by the remaining Reapers has been put off as nonsense by everybody, except for us that is. The Collector's working for the Reaper's can mean only one thing: Their invasion is imminent. It could be in years. It could be in days. But Sheppard, they are coming. And it's up to you to stop them."

So they were coming after all. Christine's heart had leapt up into her throat; she was doing her best to hide her tension. She had fought tirelessly during the defeat of a single Reaper; if they were planning a full-on invasion, she had no idea what anyone could do to stop them. Cerberus obviously had some sort of idea, though. She didn't want to trust them; she knew that that no matter how altruistic they claimed to be, they were hardly any better than the thieves and mercenaries she'd been fighting all of her life. She knew they were just using her for their own gain, because of course if Cerberus became known as the group that saved all of the galaxy from certain destruction, then nothing could stand in their way of making humans the ultimate galactic power.

She didn't want to trust them, but she had no choice.

"Why did you bring me back?" she asked. The Illusive Man's mechanical gaze flickered as he smiled.

"Because you are a symbol, Shepard. The first human Spectre! You're the best greatest leader our race has seen in a hundred years, even if you don't know it. If anyone is to lead humanity in the greatest fight of its existence, it has to be you." Christine's contempt for the man was growing larger by the second. Of course, past the flattery, there was a deeper motivation for him: power. To say that he brought the famous Commander Shepard back from the dead was a tool of immense potential politically and diplomatically. Shepard didn't like being a tool for Cerberus to use.

But again, she had no choice.

"Alright," she said, "What do you want me to do?"

"In the long run?" The Illusive Man took a long drag from his cigarette and slowly exhaled the smoke. "I want you to save us all." He smiled wryly. "But for now I have a smaller task for you. The most recent colony to go missing was Freedom's Progress, in the Terminus system. I want you to head there with Miranda and Jacob Taylor, the soldier you met at our medical facility. Do you remember him?"

The Commander did; when she had awoken at the medical facility a spy working against Cerberus had apparently programmed the defense droids to kill her. Jacob Taylor had helped save her life. He worked for Cerberus, but he was an Alliance man at heart, and questioned Cerberus' activities as much as she did; for that, she respected him and trusted him, at least a little, and certainly much more than either the Illusive Man or his lap-dog, Miranda.

"And what do you expect us to do at Freedom's Progress?" she asked.

"Investigate the area before the Alliance can. Hopefully we can gather some information on the Collectors and their motivations in these abductions, and find if the threat is as serious as we suspect."

"And after that?"

"We'll worry about that when the time comes," the Illusive Man said, "For now, make your way to Freedom's Progress. I'll communicate with you when you've finished the mission." And just like that, the Illusive Man's hologram flickered off, and the conference table emerged once again from beneath the floor.

This was all a lot for Shepard to handle, for once, she wasn't the one with the plan; she looked to Miranda who sat eyeing her with what the Commander felt was contempt.

"Commander?" Miranda, said, "Will we be leaving soon?"

Christine had awoken two days ago to find that she'd been dead for nearly two years, and now she was being ordered around by the man that lead one of the most hated organizations in the galaxy. At this point in time, the Commander was in no mood to be heading off on dangerous missions.

But again, did she really have a choice?

_Not yet_, she thought, _But soon, when I get a grasp on what's really going on, I won't be so helpless anymore._

"Come on," she told Miranda as she made her way to the door, "We're heading out right now."

They both walked out of the conference room and began their preparations to head down to Freedom's Progress, where answers hopefully awaited.

* * *

_So here it is, the jumbo sized part II! Now, to be honest I'm not such a fan of rehashing the main plot-points of the game, but soon I promise, once I can get Christine Shepard out in to the open galaxy, the _real_ story is going to start taking shape. And a dear old friend might finally return. And, as always, thank you to all of the readers who review and enjoy this story! You're encouragement keeps me going! And now that summer has begun, I promise, PROMISE, the next chapter will be up in days, NOT months. _

_Till then though, peace._


End file.
